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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25428460">Only Mortal Trust or Faerie Dust</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatternsInThread/pseuds/PatternsInThread'>PatternsInThread</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fae Jaskier [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Coming Untouched, Consensual Mind Control, Consensual Non-Consent, Dom Jaskier | Dandelion, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Fae Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Mind Reading, Porn With Plot, Roleplay, Sub Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Trust Kink, Under-negotiated Kink, significantly more plot than it was supposed to have tbh, surprisingly soft given these tags I think?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:27:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,726</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25428460</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatternsInThread/pseuds/PatternsInThread</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You could resist, though,” Jaskier murmured. “Even if I tried my utmost, you’re the White Wolf. You’d be able to fight back.”</p><p>A grin tugged at Geralt’s lips. “Let’s say that I couldn’t.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fae Jaskier [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924807</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>855</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Only Mortal Trust or Faerie Dust</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <b>READ THE TAGS AND THE WARNINGS</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Warnings: All the stuff warned for in the tags, plus some non-consensual mind control, both during the fic and in the backstory. Some of this is between Geralt and Jaskier, though it is all either unobtrusive and benevolent, or for the express purpose of saving Geralt from other mind control. During the consensual mind control, Geralt's mind and judgment are compromised, although it's made very clear he could escape if he wanted to, and that he's having a great time. That said, they don't actually negotiate much of anything. And beyond that, it is a consensual non-consent fic, both in terms of the roleplay and the mind control. Expect all the warnings that would go along with that, including threatening dirty talk, etc. Geralt has a safeword, and the scene was his idea.</p><p>If any of the above doesn't sound like it's for you, you should really hit the back button now.</p><p>For what it's worth, in the background, they have done D/S and roleplay stuff before, including negotiating, just never specifically like this. Kink negotiations are super important! And lol they do not happen here</p><p>Anyway this was supposed to be like 2k and whoops I am incapable of being concise. So I hope yall enjoy the excess. Title is from "He of the Sidhe" by Alexander James Adams (and yes I did try to find a Midsummer Night's Dream quote first, bc I'm obvious like that)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Falling into the faerie ring was an accident.</p><p>Of course it was an accident—Geralt wasn’t stupid, contrary to what Jaskier sometimes claimed. But what Geralt was, was unlucky.</p><p>As the whole “stumbling into a faerie ring while setting up camp in the dark” thing rather proved.</p><p>Geralt’s only tiny bit of luck in that whole thing, really, was that Jaskier had been with him too.</p><p>Of course, it wasn’t enough luck that Jaskier had actually <em>seen </em>it <em>coming</em>—no, that would be too useful, apparently, would have required him to actually pay attention to the outside world instead of his private odes to Geralt’s ass, and Geralt’s cock, and the entirety of the last time they’d had sex, and Geralt’s hair in the moonlight as he’d leaned in to kiss Jaskier—</p><p>He was preoccupied, was the point. Didn’t sense anything at all, certainly not the warning strain in the weft of the world, the faint honeysuckle scent of the magic of his people, before the forest shivered around them and the dark woods gave way to bright stone halls.</p><p>A chorus of laughter rang up around them, startled and curious and delighted. And the enchantments descended at once.</p><p><em>Bollocks</em>, Jaskier thought—they’d arrived in the middle of a little soiree, though thank the Triple Goddess not a fête. Still, there were a few dozen fae gathered around, drinking and dancing under the eye of what was clearly the lady of the minor court.</p><p>And just about every single one was staring at Geralt and Jaskier and weaving glamours over their minds.</p><p><em>Fuck</em>, Jaskier thought, because really, his first curse wasn’t emphatic enough. He had seconds to decide how he wanted to play it, unless he was very, very lucky—</p><p>No, he wasn’t. A quick glance at Geralt revealed that the witcher’s usually formidable resistance to magic had failed. The man hadn’t gone for any of his weapons, was just standing there, swaying slightly, pupils blown.</p><p>His hand clenched once, twice, like he was trying to resist. But in the face of so many fae, it was useless.</p><p>Well. Whatever respect the fae had for witchers, they had even less for humans. Jaskier dropped his own glamour with a thought and for once let himself revel in the startlement and confusion he provoked.</p><p>Jaskier’s true form wasn’t <em>unlike </em>his human appearance, but it wasn’t strictly like it, either. His ears grew pointed, of course, but not like an elf’s—his were broader and much longer. His skin gained a blue undertone around the edges of his features, the color of the dawn-kissed sky. His proportions changed too, not in any one particular way, but just enough such that they had no longer added up to human.</p><p>It was, Jaskier was reliably informed, an unnerving picturing to most who were not fae. Alluring, but unsettling.</p><p>“Why my dear,” he said, turning to Geralt, “if you wanted to be enchanted, you only needed to ask. No need to drag us between the worlds.”</p><p>Geralt’s mouth twitched, probably trying to speak. Jaskier wasn’t surprised he didn’t manage. The witcher’s eyes didn’t even widen at the sight of Jaskier’s true appearance—as much as anything of the fae could be true.</p><p>“And who are you?” the lady of the court asked.</p><p>“Why, I am known as Jaskier,” he replied sketching the lightest of bows. “And this witcher is a <em>project</em> of mine.”</p><p>Glamours robbed humans of their sense, but not their senses. Geralt had damn well better know him well enough to recognize that this was an act.</p><p>“Is he, now? I rather think he’s ours, what with how he wandered into our ring.”</p><p>“And that does, of course, give you claim,” Jaskier said, forcing his voice to stay amiable. He couldn’t give in, or Geralt would never be allowed to leave. He couldn’t reveal how much he cared, or the fae would rip him to shreds. “However, I have poured time and magic into this man, slowly working at his will, and that investment gives me the prior claim.”</p><p>“Perhaps,” the lady said, clearly willing to admit nothing. “But he was not under your spell when he entered. What proof do you have, of your claim?”</p><p>“Why else would I deign to travel with a mortal?” Jaskier asked, grin sharp on his lips. “But I can prove it easily enough. Simply let me take a turn at enthralling him, and it will become clear exactly how familiar his mind is with my presence.”</p><p>“Hmm,” the lady responded, and Jaskier’s threat-tense mind hysterically drew a comparison to Geralt.</p><p>The thought was a nice distraction from how much Geralt was about to hate him.</p><p>Jaskier truly, honestly hadn’t threaded his magic through Geralt’s mind that frequently. Once or twice a year, maybe? Briefly and unnoticeably, and only because he had known something like this might happen someday. Geralt’s luck was indeed that terrible, and Jaskier’s people would find a witcher the sweetest of prizes.</p><p>Well, mostly because he had known something like this might happen someday. Jaskier wasn’t foolish enough to admit it out loud, but the feel of Geralt’s mind under the caress of his magic—</p><p>Also, there was that time that Geralt’s mind had held fast to Jaskier’s magic and refused to let him withdraw. Subconsciously refused! The witcher himself had never noticed a thing.</p><p>Well, Jaskier said <em>that time</em>, but really, it was more like <em>times</em>. Specifically, the last several years’ worth.</p><p>It was that reaction that Jaskier was counting on to sell the lie. (Because the fae, contrary to popular belief, could absolutely lie.)</p><p>“Why not?” the lady said with a sigh. “Either you are lying, and we will know our claim, or you’re not, and your little <em>project </em>is now aware of your designs. That should make suitable recompense for your trespass, I suppose.”</p><p>Jaskier let himself grimace—it would be the reaction the fae would expect, if his lie were true. It was also the expression that came naturally at the thought that Geralt might be too stupid to figure out he was lying. “By your leave, my lady. If your court would drop their enchantments.”</p><p>The lady raised a long, feathery eyebrow. “If your magic has been used as you say, you should be able to work around them.”</p><p><em>Ugh</em>. Yes, probably he could, especially given that he was more powerful than most of the fae in the room. But risk was risk, and more to the point, it would be much less comfortable for Geralt.</p><p>But needs must. So with a breath, Jaskier called forth his magic, weaving its strands into the same shape he’d always used to enter Geralt’s mind.</p><p>His magic slid in easily, curling around the enchantments the other fae had spun. Between Jaskier’s power and his familiarity with Geralt—the man himself, not just his mind—it was easy to straighten the thrust of his magic and cut through them like so many spiderwebs.</p><p>Geralt might hate him after this. But at least he’d be free to do so.</p><p>Jaskier spun his enchantments thicker and tighter, filling up every space left by the other fae, and swallowing every thought besides. He was <em>not</em> going to let the lady argue his glamour was incomplete.</p><p>Dealing with the enchantments of the other fae was easy. But dealing with Geralt himself… Jaskier was just one fae, and against a normal human it would have been enough, a thousand times over. But against a witcher, and the White Wolf in particular…</p><p>Because Geralt’s mind instinctively threw off magic. It had bowed under the weight of so many fae, but with just Jaskier, what half-formed thoughts Geralt could muster were slipping through his spells—</p><p>Right up until they weren’t.</p><p>Jaskier almost cursed with startlement as the witcher's mind went pliant, but he was still fae enough not to show weakness in the middle of a court, however long he’d spent among humans.</p><p>…He’d better not have accidentally broken Geralt.</p><p>Geralt’s mind was still, no longer squirming away from him. The tendrils of his enchantments suddenly caught, where before they had found no purchase. The web of his magic started anchoring again and again, all over Geralt’s mind, which lay prone and open before him.</p><p>The feeling of power was heady.</p><p>Not enough that it eclipsed his concern for Geralt. But Goddess, it was strong.</p><p>Jaskier barely even had to concentrate on maintaining the web of spells, on keeping the tendrils in place, what with how they stayed so perfectly, as if something were holding them in—</p><p>Oh, <em>oh!</em> Geralt was <em>helping</em>.</p><p>Jaskier had avoided looking at Geralt’s face, not wanting to see it empty and pliable, unrecognizing of either him or the danger around them. Unrecognizing of the betrayal. But he chanced a look, and Geralt’s face didn’t look how he’d feared, not quite—there was a spark there, an awareness that hadn’t been present with the weight of three dozen fae on his mind.</p><p>It shouldn’t have been possible, but then, maybe that’s why Jaskier should have seen it coming. Somehow, Geralt was aware enough to help.</p><p>And after that, it was easy.</p><p>--</p><p>The lady of the court hadn’t wanted to let them go, but she hadn’t had much recourse. They fae were bound by certain rules, as much as they twisted them, and the rules around possession and territory were stronger than most.</p><p>Not that Geralt was a possession, of him or anyone else, <em>ever</em>, and Jaskier might just kill anyone who thought otherwise. Well. If he hadn’t been outnumbered three dozen to one.</p><p>But the lady had let them go, gesturing the portal back to the forest into existence. “I suppose I’ll have to rely on the thought of your spoiled project to keep me entertained in place of my prize.”</p><p>“Not your prize,” Jaskier said, bowing smoothly and knowing far better than to concede the term. “But I give thanks nonetheless, and am glad you shall reap at least some amusement from my misfortunes.”</p><p>Then he’d motioned for Geralt to follow him through the portal and the witcher had, unhesitatingly. And they’d left.</p><p>Roach was waiting right where they’d left her, right where they had emerged. It had likely only been seconds for her, the poor thing, she still looked a tad alarmed. And luckily, all their belongings were still loaded on her, because they needed to get away from the faerie ring <em>immediately</em>.</p><p>Certainly before Jaskier could let Geralt out from under the enchantment.</p><p>--</p><p>They were three leagues away before Jaskier felt safe letting Geralt return to himself.</p><p>“Apologies for that, really,” Jaskier was saying before Geralt’s gaze even finished clearing, “it was just a bit of an emergency, and I damn well hope you know I was lying my ass off in there and that I’d never tamper with your mind as I implied, and anyway, it’s not like you didn’t <em>know</em> I wasn’t human, even if we had both mutually agreed not to talk about it, although I can admit this was not perhaps the best circumstances in which to find out the—”</p><p>“Jaskier,” Geralt rumbled.</p><p>“Ah. Yes?”</p><p>“We’re fine.”</p><p>Then Geralt swung up on Roach and kept on moving.</p><p>“Ah. Yes, well that’s good, very glad to hear it. Just wanted to make sure you knew that, and all—knew it was fake, I mean, as if I’d ever—”</p><p>“I knew.”</p><p>Jaskier let out a sigh of relief. “Good. Good.”</p><p>--</p><p>“You know,” Geralt said two nights later, as they sat around the fire—Jaskier having <em>thoroughly </em>searched the area for any sign of a faerie ring or mound, because fool him once, and all. “I didn’t have <em>fae</em> particularly high on my list of options.”</p><p>This was the first time Geralt had brought up the whole…ordeal. Jaskier perked up. “Dare I ask what you did think I was?”</p><p>Geralt shrugged. “Part elf, maybe. Siren, possibly. Some others.”</p><p>“Siren!” Jaskier laughed. “Why, I think I’ll take that as a compliment.”</p><p>“If you must,” Geralt said, with that tone that meant if he were less repressed, he’d be rolling his eyes.</p><p>“Well,” Jaskier said, after a moment. “I’m not. And now you know.”</p><p>“Hmm.”</p><p>“You…you meant what you said before, yes? That we’re fine?”</p><p>Geralt turned away from the roasting squirrel to meet his gaze. “Don’t worry. Far as I’m concerned, you’re the same foolish bard as always.”</p><p>Jaskier grinned. He was very good at taking Geralt’s words in the spirit they were meant.</p><p>--</p><p>“Just thought you should know, for the sake of full disclosure. But using magic on you like that over the years, it truly was a preventative measure. And brief! Did I mention it was brief?”</p><p>Geralt snorted. “You mentioned you kept it in my head for three days once.”</p><p>“Technically, yes, but you were the one who wouldn’t let go that time!”</p><p>“Hmm.”</p><p>“Geralt.” Jaskier sobered. “I never made you do anything. I never would. It’s important to me that you know that.”</p><p>“Hmm.”</p><p>“Geralt, I know words aren’t exactly your forte, but for once I rather need them. Even if you <em>didn’t</em> know that, or would like me to leave, I’d like the words to be out there in the open.”</p><p>“Bard,” Geralt says. Then, a slight correction: “<em>Jaskier</em>. We’re fine.”</p><p>A smile tugged at Jaskier’s lips. “Glad to hear it.”</p><p>“I would have noticed, anyway,” Geralt drawled. “Your magic is about as subtle as you are.”</p><p>Jaskier squawked and let himself be absorbed in the time-honored ritual of him and Geralt giving each other shit.</p><p>--</p><p>“I suppose this means you could enchant me whenever you wish,” Geralt said, into what was for once a quiet moment. “I’d be helpless to resist.”</p><p>They were sitting around the campfire once again. It had been a week since their inadvertent journey into the realm of the fae. And Jaskier had thought they’d already had this conversation.</p><p>“I <em>told </em>you I would never,” Jaskier said, tone far more serious than usual. He’d thought Geralt had believed him.</p><p>“No, I know,” Geralt said, waving the concern away. “But you <em>could</em>.”</p><p>Jaskier narrowed his eyes. “And you could stab me anytime you wanted, I don’t see how that makes a difference…”</p><p>Geralt actually did, for once, roll his eyes. Oddly, as that was generally a sign that the witcher had let down his guard. “Except I’m capable of subtlety.”</p><p>“<em>Riiiiight</em>.” Somehow, it didn’t seem like the best time to argue that point. “Well if we’re agreed that I wouldn’t and you’d catch me anyway, I’m not sure why you’re bringing this up.”</p><p>“Jaskier.” Geralt’s eyes shone in the crackling light of the fire. “I’m saying that if you chose, you could enchant me. Right now, even. And I’d be in your thrall.” Geralt’s gaze raked up and down his body, so, so slowly. “Bound to your whims.”  His pupils were blown wide, even given the darkness, as they met Jaskier’s gaze once again. “Helpless to resist.”</p><p>Oh. <em>Ohhhh</em>. Well wasn’t that a delightful thought.</p><p>It wasn’t the first time they’d had sex since the faerie ring, but it was close. Jaskier decided to blame that for the fact that his cock was already twitching up.</p><p>“Ah, yes, of course. Silly me,” Jaskier murmured. Then, because it was important: “You could resist, though. Even if I tried my utmost, you’re the White Wolf. You’d be able to fight back.”</p><p>A grin tugged at Geralt’s lips. “Let’s say that I couldn’t.”</p><p>“Right.” Jaskier inhaled sharply, then stood. He let his glamour weaken around him—not enough to fall away, but just enough to let something other seep up under his skin, and an unnatural grace infuse his movements.</p><p>He strode over to Geralt, smooth, elegant, a grin on his lips.</p><p>Geralt stayed seated on the ground. Stared up into Jaskier’s eyes, for once so far above his own.</p><p>“I could enchant you right now. Leave you floating in a blissful haze. Or leave you unable to think of anything but pleasing me. I could make you forget your own name—not the way lovers joke about, but for real,” Jaskier mused, tone forcibly idle. “Doesn’t that scare you, <em>witcher</em>?”</p><p>Geralt smirked. “Do your worst, fae.”</p><p>So they were playing it like that, then. Jaskier could practically feel the blood rushing to his cock. He was always happy to play at being harmless, at not being the most powerful person in most rooms, would almost never want people to think otherwise.</p><p>But once in a very long while…</p><p>“With <em>pleasure</em>, witcher,” Jaskier said, pulling his magic forward until it sat thick in his hands.</p><p>Fae didn’t need touch to enchant—didn’t need any contact at all. But it certainly helped with the magic—and in this case, the mood. So Jaskier reached out a hand, glittering with his power in the firelight, and stroked it down Geralt’s jawline.</p><p>Geralt swayed right there and then—and all under Jaskier’s power. <em>Fuck</em>. <em>Heady</em> was an understatement.</p><p>But then Geralt mustered himself and glared up at Jaskier. “You’ll have to do better than that.”</p><p>“Oh, witcher,” Jaskier purred. “So sweet, thinking you can resist me.”</p><p>“I can,” Geralt said defiantly, “and I—”</p><p>His voice cut off with a gasp as Jaskier dragged a thumb over his lips. “Now, now.  You could insult me and declare your intention to resist,” Jaskier said, layering the enchantments more thickly. “Or you could open your pretty little mouth and <em>suck</em>.”</p><p>Geralt pressed his lips together tighter, and Jaskier felt a flicker of worry, reached out to his sense of Geralt’s mind—</p><p>Mischief and arousal. Not a hint of anger or fear.</p><p>“Unless you want me to make you, of course.” Jaskier paused, then broke character to murmur, “Tell me ‘stop,’ anytime, and I will.”</p><p>Geralt grunted defiantly, lips staying shut.</p><p>Jaskier’s smirk widened.</p><p>“Well then,” he said, tone languid and arrogant again as he slowly lowered himself down to crouch at Geralt’s eye level. He stared straight into the witcher’s golden eyes, letting his own eyes glow with his power, beckoning Geralt deeper, deeper, <em>come under, relax, relax and obey</em>.</p><p>But a witcher’s mind was powerful, and Geralt clearly wanted Jaskier to apply more pressure before he’d give in. Wanted, it seemed, to feel Jaskier <em>make</em> him give in.</p><p>And if that was what Geralt wanted, far be it from Jaskier to deny him.</p><p>“You’re going to open your mouth and suck my thumb as ardently as if it were my cock,” Jaskier said, lathing his power over Geralt’s mind with each word. “You’re going to act like it’s the best thing you’ve ever had in your mouth, panting and whimpering for me.” Not <em>think </em>it’s the best thing—that could come later. “And you’re going to do it eagerly, passionately, and all because I said so.”</p><p>Geralt did not.</p><p>But that was okay. If he was too resistant to that, Jaskier would just have to come at him sideways. <em>Tell me I’m wrong</em>, his magic prodded Geralt’s mind, well below Geralt’s conscious awareness. <em>Spit your defiance. Tell me to go fuck myself.</em></p><p>“<em>Never</em>,” Geralt hissed, and there was a grin at the corner of his mouth for just a second—</p><p>Then Jaskier hooked his thumb around Geralt’s teeth just long enough to slip it in.</p><p>“There we go,” Jaskier crooned. “All nice and inside and ready for you. Doesn’t that feel good?” It definitely did, as Jaskier sent a wave of pleasure running down Geralt’s spine, another all the way to his cock, and another to lodge itself in the witcher’s mind and stay.</p><p>“I’m not sure why you bother resisting,” Jaskier said, leaning in to whisper in Geralt’s ear, his lips just brushing its shell. “Not when <em>obeying </em>feels so <em>good</em>.”</p><p>Another wave of pleasure on <em>obey</em>. And because Geralt wanted to be enticed, because he was so clearly into the idea of being controlled, Jaskier planted a suggestion: That Geralt would feel another wave of pleasure whenever Jaskier told him to <em>obey</em>, every time he said the word—and another when Geralt finally caved and did as he was told.</p><p>Indeed, Geralt’s eyelids fluttered under the assault of pleasure, his mouth watering and his throat unconsciously swallowing in response—</p><p>For which Jaskier awarded him with even more pleasure, seated right down in his cock, because that motion had fulfilled his earlier instruction to <em>suck</em>.</p><p>“There you go, listening so beautifully, fulfilling my every order,” Jaskier said, and Geralt growled around his thumb.</p><p>Jaskier laughed. “Well you will soon enough. Look at you, already <em>obeying</em> so sweetly, doing just as I told you—”</p><p>Because Geralt <em>was</em> sucking as ordered, had been overwhelmed enough by the waves of pleasure that his resistance to the command had crumbled. And resisting a command was far, far harder once one gave in.</p><p>Jaskier brought up his other hand, still laced with potent glamour, and ran it through Geralt’s hair. Geralt leaned into it, just for a moment, before he pulled back and glared up at Jaskier again, even as his mouth kept sucking.</p><p>“Now, now, that won’t do at all,” Jaskier said, and with a pull, shifted the magic dancing over his fingertips from a general nudge to make his <em>victim </em>pliable, to an urge pushing Geralt to lean back into his hand. To let Jaskier twirl his fingers through that long, white hair for as long as he wished. A command for Geralt to nuzzle his head, the seat of his mind, right up against Jaskier’s enchantments, enabling his own enthrallment.</p><p>It seemed to have no effect—at first. But Jaskier could feel Geralt’s mind, could feel him contentedly pushing against the glamour. Resisting thoroughly, and enjoying the struggle.</p><p>Lucky, then, that stroking a hand through one’s hair was an action that Jaskier could repeat.</p><p>And he did, over and over, gentling Geralt’s resistance even as the man sucked at Jaskier’s thumb, at the fingers he slowly added. The witcher laved his tongue over their tips, scraped his teeth over the ridges of Jaskier’s fingerprints.</p><p>Then Jaskier pulled his fingers out of the witcher’s mouth to run them over his lips.</p><p>Geralt tried to lean away, but Jaskier twisted a hand in his hair and pulled him back into place, pulled right from the skull so it didn’t hurt—and flooded the point of contact with a pleasure so intense it would take a monstrous willpower to want to pull away.</p><p>Geralt didn’t.</p><p>That was how Jaskier knew it was time for the next step. Just in time—his legs were getting tired from holding his position.</p><p>Jaskier leaned forward again, whispering in Geralt’s other ear this time—the one right next to where his hand was fisted in Geralt’s hair.</p><p>“Be a good little witcher and <em>kneel</em> for me.”</p><p>Geralt’s legs twitched, but he didn’t move beyond that.</p><p>“Still so resistant. It’s almost admirable—and completely futile. Oh, what, do you have something to say?”</p><p>Geralt grunted. “As if I’d give in so easily to some pathetic fae.”</p><p>“Pathetic, am I?” Jaskier chuckled. Geralt’s cock was straining against his pants. Perfect encouragement to sink more deeply into character. “Let’s see how pathetic you think I am when you’re seated on my cock.”</p><p>Geralt inhaled sharply. Jaskier could feel the spike of arousal in his mind.</p><p>“Oh, you like that, don’t you? Even as you try to resist me, even as you tell yourself that you don’t want this, you already ache for my cock. For me to <em>use</em> you. Enthrall you completely and make you <em>mine</em>.”</p><p>“<em>Never</em>,” Geralt growled.</p><p>“Methinks the witcher doth protest too much,” Jaskier said with a smirk. “Well, protest all you like. There’s only one way this ends. And before long, you’ll be helping me get there.”</p><p>“Over your dead body.”</p><p>“Well, you do think quite highly of yourself, don’t you. Then again,” Jaskier grabbed at Geralt’s cock through his pants, “I suppose you have reason to.”</p><p>“Unhand me,” Geralt growled, baring his teeth.</p><p>“Only for the moment,” Jaskier agreed, chuckling again. “But don’t worry, we’ll soon get you eager to <em>obey</em>.”</p><p>Another wave of pleasure wracked Geralt’s body, and Jaskier doubled down at the exact second that it crested, hitting Geralt’s mind with the full force of his glamour. A strength that could overwhelm even a witcher, especially a distracted witcher.</p><p>If Geralt wanted to be forced, then he would be.</p><p>“<em>Kneel</em>,” Jaskier hissed, and the next instant, Geralt was moving, his mind still insensate from pleasure. His legs folded under themselves and he came up, back perfectly straight and neck bent to the floor.</p><p>The perfect picture of submission.</p><p>Jaskier eased up the enchantments—no point in keeping Geralt so far under, where the witcher couldn’t know he was in Jaskier’s power. Besides, that little trick wouldn’t work for much longer—unless, of course, Geralt let it.</p><p>He could see the second the witcher came to, the moment his eyes sharpened once again—nowhere near as sharp as they’d been at the start of the night.</p><p>All Geralt had to do was ask, and Jaskier would let up in a heartbeat. But in the meantime, with the way the witcher’s arousal only increased every time he was forced to struggle?</p><p>Well. Far be it from Jaskier to make resisting <em>easy </em>on him.</p><p>“See, witcher? Kneeling for me so prettily. Isn’t that better?” Jaskier asked, making his eyes glow even more brightly in the night. “Doesn’t it feel good to <em>obey</em>?”</p><p>Geralt’s reply was a bitten off moan. Then a hissed, “<em>Fuck you</em>.”</p><p>“Hmm. No, that’s rather the opposite of the plan. But you know what? If you enjoy being in my thrall so much, we can do that next time. I’ll just keep you around, my own personal witcher. You’ll be so <em>eager</em> to pleasure me.”</p><p>“I won’t,” Geralt gasped.</p><p>“Then why, dear witcher, do you already have a hand on your cock?”</p><p>Geralt lifted his head to glare up at him. He kept palming his cock through his pants even as he made eye contact and spoke. “You made me.”</p><p>“I certainly did not,” Jaskier said, tone brimming with delight. He <em>hadn’t</em>. But if Geralt wanted to pretend he was that far under Jaskier’s power—or if he’d been so distracted by pleasure that he hadn’t even noticed… Jaskier was honestly not sure which was hotter.</p><p>“No, my dear witcher, you did that all on your own,” Jaskier said, releasing his grip on Geralt’s hair to start running his hand through it once again. Petting his pet witcher. “You may deny wanting to be here, but your body betrays you. It knows how far under my power it is, even if you refuse to acknowledge it. And it knows that you <em>want to be there</em>.”</p><p>“If I wanted to be there,” Geralt growled, “you wouldn’t need magic to make me.”</p><p>Jaskier hummed. “You know what, I think I’ve changed my mind.”</p><p>Geralt looked just the slightest bit startled, just around the edges.</p><p>“You’re being so rude, witcher, that I honestly don’t think you deserve my cock after all.”</p><p>“So you’re going to let me go?” Geralt asked, voice wary. His mind was not thrilled, but struggling to figure out where this was going, especially since he didn’t move to break the fog that Jaskier had layered over his thoughts.</p><p>Jaskier laughed. “No, no of course not.”</p><p>Then he bent down and straddled Geralt’s lap. “No, witcher. Never. No, you don’t deserve my cock—but it would be a shame to waste yours. So I’m going to make <em>you</em> fuck <em>me</em>.”</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>,” Geralt hissed.</p><p>“Exactly,” Jaskier purred. “And you know what?” He let his glamour fall away. “I’m going to make sure that you know exactly <em>what </em>you’re fucking.”</p><p>“I’m not so addled,” Geralt’s breath hitched as Jaskier undid the first button of his trousers, “that I can’t tell you’re fae.”</p><p>“Of course not,” Jaskier said, letting his nail dig in just the slightest bit as he undid the second button, then the third. “I just want to rub it in your face, that you’re going to fuck the very type of thing you’re supposed to hunt.”</p><p>“Fae aren’t monsters,” Geralt said through gritted teeth. He took his gaze away from his half-hidden cock to look Jaskier in the eyes.</p><p>Jaskier felt his face softening. “I know.” Then, pulling his smirk back into place, “But I am one right now. And you’re about to fuck me anyway.”</p><p>A smirk tugged at the edge of Geralt’s lips as well. “Make me.”</p><p>“Oh, I will,” Jaskier said, eyes glowing brighter in the dark as he wove enchantments thicker and thicker, but held them in his own mind—held them in reserve. “You said I could enthrall you utterly, bind you to my every whim. And you were right.”</p><p>And Jaskier dumped the thick tapestry of enchantments on Geralt’s mind at the same time he squeezed Geralt’s cock.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>,” the witcher moaned. “<em>Jask</em>.”</p><p>Jaskier knew what his own magic felt like, muddling the mind—after all, it wasn’t as if the fae didn’t enthrall each other.</p><p>No, he’d spent many days floating just like Geralt was. So he knew exactly what Geralt would be experiencing: the way the world went soft around him, narrowing down to Jaskier as the center. Waves and waves of arousal imposed upon him. Every touch heightened, every caress more pleasurable.</p><p>His mind, made eager to listen, to obey, to adore.</p><p>Even more eager than it was already.</p><p>“You’re beautiful, Witcher,” Jaskier murmured, half-in and half-out of the fantasy. It was true: Geralt’s hair was starlight itself, his eyes burning like their fire—a more beautiful picture he’d rarely seen.</p><p>He stroked a finger against Geralt’s neck, and Geralt moaned from that alone.</p><p>“Pull out your cock,” Jaskier commanded, and that, at least, made Geralt pull his hand away from his length—only long enough to undo the rest of the buttons and push the remaining leather out of the way.</p><p>His cock bobbed up as soon as it was free, hard and already leaking. It made a beautiful contrast against the frame of Geralt’s pants. All wrapped up like a gift.</p><p>And being <em>presented </em>to Jaskier. The witcher’s resistance truly had crumbled.</p><p>It was so lovely, how could he not touch?</p><p>So he did—but slowly swiping a single fingertip across Geralt’s slit.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>,” Geralt gasped. “How—?”</p><p>“How did that feel so good?” Jaskier asked with a predatory smile. “I told you, you’re in my thrall. You’re <em>mine</em>. And I make sure my <em>toys </em>feel good.”</p><p>“You’re—” Geralt choked on his words as Jaskier stroked far too gently down the top of his cock. And as always, Geralt’s cock twitched when Jaskier called him a toy. “Making it feel—?”</p><p>“Like the best touch you’ve ever experienced? I am. Don’t you love it?”</p><p>“<em>F—fuck</em>.”</p><p>“What am I saying, of course you do,” Jaskier said, idly twirling his finger across the head of Geralt’s cock. With forced idleness, admittedly, but it did rather complete the picture. And keep his witcher from mustering words. “I made it so you would.”</p><p>Geralt’s control of his own body faltered in yet another way as he lost against the onslaught of pleasure and his hips started thrusting up, chasing Jaskier’s hand.</p><p>But Jaskier didn’t let him get any touch greater than a tease. “That’s right. I control you completely, not just <em>what </em>you feel, but <em>how </em>you feel it. I could make you come right now, from this alone—but I won’t, because you’re here to serve me. And I need your cock to spear myself on.”</p><p>“Ngh,” was all that came out of Geralt’s mouth.</p><p>“Now, now,” Jaskier said. “What do you say when someone gives you a gift like this?”</p><p><em>Thank you</em>. He pressed the words against Geralt’s mind.</p><p>“Fuck you,” Geralt actually said.</p><p>Jaskier chuckled. So he wasn’t <em>that </em>far gone. Or interested in capitulating quite yet.</p><p>Though then again—his hips were still thrusting.</p><p>“Only in the most literal sense, my witcher.”</p><p>“Not yours, <em>fae</em>.”</p><p>“That’s just what you think. But if you weren’t mine, would you <em>obey</em> when I told you this: Unbutton my pants, reach back, and start fingering me open.”</p><p>Geralt’s face tightened in concentration, gritting his teeth against the pleasure that <em>obey </em>still instilled. “I’m not.”</p><p>Jaskier let out a sharp, mocking bark of laughter. “<em>Clearly</em>. I can tell by how your fists are <em>trembling </em>with the effort of staying clenched.”</p><p>“Witchers’ hands don’t shake,” Geralt bit out, which was a <em>blatant</em> lie.</p><p>“Mmhmm,” Jaskier hummed. “Well while you lose the fight against my thrall, why don’t I get the oil for you?”</p><p>“Bastard,” Geralt said, but he was staring at Jaskier’s crotch.</p><p>“You know,” Jaskier said airily, “you should really be more grateful to me, witcher. Look at me, being so helpful right now.” And Geralt was looking, at an even more prominent sight: leaning over to Geralt’s bag forced Jaskier's hips up in the air.</p><p>Lucky, they made sure to store the oil somewhere <em>convenient</em>. So Jaskier was pulling himself back up in a matter of seconds—and just for fun, he came down extra far and ground the bulge of his pants up against Geralt’s exposed dick.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>,” Geralt said again, his head falling back this time even as his hand went to his dick—and then passed it and went for Jaskier’s buttons.</p><p>He shuddered as he undid the first one, and Jaskier felt the wave of pleasure from obeying sweep through Geralt’s mind.</p><p>“There we go, just like that,” Jaskier said, voice light from anticipation as Geralt’s other hand came up too, and Jaskier generously lifted his hips up in order to help his trousers be pulled down, then his smallclothes.</p><p>Then Geralt’s hands faltered. He was probably trying to pull them back. A quick dip into Geralt’s mind revealed that yes, that was the case—but he was being rather encumbered by the fact that he didn’t truly <em>want </em>to.</p><p>And really, honestly, not a soul could blame Jaskier for being just a bit impatient—not with such a beautiful man beneath him. And Geralt wanted to be overcome, anyway. So Jaskier grabbed at one of the hands Geralt was only just starting to move away, and pulled it all the way down toward his entrance.</p><p>“Two to start, I think,” Jaskier said, breath hitching at the end as Geralt took the opportunity to brush a finger so delicately, so faintly over his puckered hole that it almost <em>tickled</em>. “Don’t be a fucking <em>tease</em>, Ge—witcher. I do this all the time.”</p><p>“I can tell,” Geralt said, sarcastic drawl much, much fainter than it would usually be. But in no one else would it have been present at all, under that amount of haze.</p><p>And sure enough, Geralt’s first two fingers slid right on in.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>,” Jaskier hissed—finally <em>he </em>was the one reduced to monosyllables. “Good. Good!” he shouted as Geralt scissored his fingers inside of Jaskier.</p><p>“Aren’t the fae—“ a grunt, “supposed to be—”</p><p>“Supposed to be what?” Jaskier asked between gasps. “Insatiable? Manipulative? Monstrous? Ruthless? I think ensnaring a witcher and forcing him to pleasure me is all that and more.”</p><p>Geralt jabbed in more roughly. Exactly the way Jaskier liked it.</p><p>“When this is over,” Geralt growled, “I’m going to slice you to pieces and burn you to ash.”</p><p>“Add a third,” Jaskier said instead of answering, and Geralt did, jerkily, like he was trying to resist.</p><p>“That was cute. That little attempt.” Jaskier chuckled. “Too bad you’re just a puppet now, witcher. A toy in my hands.”</p><p>“Show you a puppet,” Geralt muttered, which wasn’t really a coherent insult, especially when he rubbed right down on Jaskier’s prostate.</p><p>“I’ll show you a puppet indeed,” Jaskier replied. “See what happens when I tug on your strings? <em>Come</em>.”</p><p>Geralt doubled over from the suddenness of it, his dick jerking as it pumped out seed, striping Jaskier’s doublet and his own armor. All from just a little palming and the power of Jaskier’s thrall.</p><p>“I can make you feel like that all the time, you know,” Jaskier said, trailing a finger down Geralt’s oversensitive cock, watching his witcher shudder at the touch. “Order you to orgasm for hours—I wonder if your body would manage? Because if I tell it to, it will certainly try.”</p><p>Geralt snorted, still bent over—leaving him staring at their bodies and cocks, both coated with his come. “You’ve wasted your chance, fae. Good luck impaling yourself on a soft dick.”</p><p>His fingers were still working open Jaskier’s hole. They hadn’t stopped for an instant, not even as Geralt had shuddered with pleasure. Jaskier hadn’t told him they could.</p><p>“Oh, witcher,” Jaskier said, fluttering his eyelashes over glowing blue eyes. “Do you think I know so little about how my new toy works?”</p><p>“I don’t—” Geralt grunted as Jaskier twisted his hand over the head of his soft cock. “Know what you mean.”</p><p>“Even if it weren’t for your witcher magics, and all, I well be able to bring you to hardness again, you know. Just by ordering it.” Geralt’s cock twitched. Jaskier’s smile grew sharper. “After all, your body knows it’s <em>mine</em>. It wants so hard to <em>please</em> me.”</p><p>“Whatever you think you know about witchers—” Geralt started, fingers working deeper and cock already starting to swell.</p><p>“Only how good a puppet the White Wolf makes.”</p><p>Geralt groaned, and Jaskier finally wrapped a full hand around his length in reward.</p><p>“That’s right, witcher. Get hard for me again. Just like that, let me coax it out of you, let yourself give into the pleasure, let your body give into my whims, let it serve me the way I tell it to, the way it <em>wants</em> to, the way I’ve made <em>you </em>want to.”</p><p>And whether it was the thrall or Jaskier’s words or Geralt’s eagerness, his cock was once again hard and throbbing in Jaskier’s hands.</p><p>“That’s right. All that, just for me—at my whim, at my say so, you helpless against me, powerless to resist. Your mind, your body, all mine, all serving me—”</p><p>“Yes—” Geralt hissed. And in the space of their minds, Jaskier felt him finally give in.</p><p>Jaskier lifted his hand—the one that had been Geralt’s cock, leaving his lover thrusting into nothing—and used just one finger to tilt Geralt’s chin up, the finger slick with Geralt’s come. He forced Geralt to look him in the eyes as he said, “Say that again.”</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>,” Geralt moaned, louder.</p><p>“You’re mine,” Jaskier breathed, his eyes not leaving Geralt’s for a moment.</p><p>“I’m yours,” Geralt agreed, voice low and rough with sex. “I’m <em>yours</em>.”</p><p>“A puppet in my hands?” Jaskier’s own neglected cock was aching—his witcher, under his power, swearing himself over—</p><p>“A puppet in your hands,” Geralt agreed.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>,” Jaskier said, and his rather less acceptable fae instincts <em>glowed</em> at the supplication. “<em>Yes</em>. <em>Mine</em>. <em>My plaything</em>. My plaything, who is going to right now fuck me on his cock.”</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>,” Geralt said, withdrawing his fingers and bringing both hands under Jaskier’s thighs to lift him up like he weighed nothing.</p><p>Lift him up and line his ass right up with Geralt’s cock.</p><p>“Stop,” Jaskier said, and Geralt did, completely, hands frozen with Jaskier’s ass in midair, eyes bright and unfocused.</p><p>Jaskier leaned over to retrieve the vial of oil and slowly, so slowly, drizzled it over Geralt’s cock, Geralt forced to hold him up and stay completely still.</p><p>“There,” Jaskier said, dragging his fingers through the wetness of the oil. “Now you’re ready for me.”</p><p>But it wasn’t a direct command. Geralt didn’t move. Just groaned, short and bitten off.</p><p>Jaskier’s smirk was as wide as it had ever been. “Go on. Fuck into me.”</p><p>And Geralt lowered him down and entered him.</p><p>Even with the time he’d made Geralt spend fingering him open, it was a delicious stretch. Jaskier groaned as Geralt slowly moved him down, inch by inch.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>, Geralt, <em>yes</em>…” he moaned.</p><p>Geralt grunted with his own pleasure, before lifting Jaskier back up into the air, until he was almost off Geralt’s cock completely, only the head still nestled inside him.</p><p>And then Geralt practically dropped him back down. It was <em>glorious</em>.</p><p>“Fuckin’ love witcher strength,” Jaskier said, dropping his head to rest against Geralt’s shoulder and winding his fingers back through his lover’s hair. Pulled, just the way Geralt loved, at the exact moment that he bottomed out.</p><p>Geralt moaned, that time, half-bitten off and unbelievably hot.</p><p>“That’s right,” Jaskier said, “keep going, keep fucking me, spear me on your cock,” and Geralt did, over and over. It was rough, from the angle and Jaskier’s weight and his lack of control over the pace, and it was <em>divine</em>.</p><p>“More,” Jaskier hissed into Geralt’s shoulder, “keep going, fuck me, fuck me ‘til I can’t feel anything but you, can’t think of anything, yes, <em>yes</em>, anything but you—”</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>,” Geralt said, “you—”</p><p>“Me,” Jaskier agreed. “Just me. Me and you and no one else, just us, just fucking, nothing outside this moment—”</p><p>There was a faint sensation of amusement of Geralt’s mind, beneath the love and the pleasure—too blissed out for anything like words. The amusement felt like Geralt’s fond smile, him poking at Jaskier’s inability to shut up.</p><p>“I never do, you know that,” Jaskier said. “Not even during sex, and let’s face it, our sex would be so dreadfully boring if not for my talking, or at least my mouth, being quiet is for cowards—”</p><p>Spikes in Geralt’s mind: curiosity and joking offense.</p><p>“Not that you’re a coward, dear,” Jaskier chuckled through his panting. “And of course I’m still in your mind—could hardly do this without, safely, since—<em>fuck</em>—”</p><p>Geralt’s dick rubbed right up against his prostate, and pleasure sparked up Jaskier’s spine.</p><p>Pleasure was sparking in Geralt’s mind, too.</p><p>“Oh, you like that, do you—” Jaskier drawled, straining to keep his tone even and aloof as Geralt kept fucking him, kept fucking Jaskier down onto himself, doing all the work and letting Jaskier just melt and <em>feel</em> it. “Like knowing I’m in your mind, witcher? Like knowing that I know everything you feel, every thought, if I wanted to, every single inclination. Mine to hear, mine to control, if I want. Make you do anything, leave you helpless to <em>obey</em>.”</p><p>Geralt gasped, his pace stuttering as the trigger made another wave of pleasure wash over him. Jaskier dropped most of the way down in an instant, before Geralt’s grip solidified.</p><p>But the witcher’s hands stayed trembling.</p><p>“That’s it,” Jaskier said, burying his fingers deeper in Geralt’s hair. “It feels so good, doesn’t it? Being under my control. <em>Obeying</em> me.”</p><p>A moan ripped through Geralt, the most open yet. His hips stuttered, the change in motion only striking Jaskier’s prostate twice over.</p><p>“<em>Oh</em>,” he gasped.</p><p>It was <em>divine</em>. Geralt kept thrusting up to meet Jaskier’s ass as he lowered it down, leaving Jaskier with none of the work and all of the ability to just relax into the pleasure.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>,” he hissed, “Yes, Geralt, gods, you feel so good—hnng, right there, yes, right <em>there</em>—”</p><p>Geralt struck that same wonderful spot, gods be blessed for creating humans and fae with that spot, once, twice, three times in a row—</p><p>Jaskier jerked a hand out of Geralt’s hair to grasp his own cock, pumping up and down as Geralt shifted his hips the slightest bit, so that he hit that spot on <em>every damn thrust</em>.</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>, I’m gonna—”</p><p>Jaskier rubbed his thumb over his slit at the exact moment that Geralt hit it again, so perfectly, and it was too much pleasure, too much everything: Jaskier came.</p><p>Geralt kept thrusting through it as come streaked out of Jaskier’s cock, striping itself across his doublet and Geralt’s armor. He couldn’t even bring himself to be annoyed about the laundry, not in the face of his witcher looking claimed in yet another way.</p><p>Geralt slowly came to a stop before pulling out. Pushed against Jaskier’s previous command to do so, not wanting to keep going when he knew Jaskier would soon become too sensitive.</p><p>Jaskier leaned in—leaned down, with the height advantage from sitting on Geralt’s lap—and used the hand he had still tangled in Geralt’s hair to tip his head into place. And he kissed the man he loved.</p><p>It was long and deep and filthy. Geralt was still seated in him, holding his hips still through what could only be a miraculous act of willpower.</p><p>After what was probably a minute, but was not nearly long enough, Jaskier pulled back.</p><p>His disappointment at no longer kissing the witcher would be more than compensated for.</p><p>With his sharpest smirk, Jaskier whispered, “<em>Come</em>.”</p><p>And Geralt did.</p><p>There was nothing in that moment. No friction, no movement. Just the pleasure Jaskier had suffused him with and the power of Jaskier’s command.</p><p>Geralt moaned as he came, head thrown back and mouth open in an abandon he so rarely showed. His come dirtied their clothing further, but gods, did Jaskier love the look of it mixing with his own spend.</p><p>“Gods, you’re so beautiful,” he said, for the sheer need to say <em>something </em>in the face of such majesty. “Amazing. Astounding. Wonderful. Gorgeous. Lovely. I don’t say if enough, but you really are so lovely, especially when I’m making you come.”</p><p>Geralt chuckled. “Not that you’re biased.”</p><p>“Irredeemably,” Jaskier agreed. “So then. Are we done with”—he waved his come-slick hand vaguely in the air—“all this?”</p><p>“Hmm. Yeah.”</p><p>“Well then. Alas!” Jaskier cried. “My witcher has escaped!” He unwound the enchantments from Geralt’s mind. “Whatever am I to do without so lovely a prisoner!”</p><p>Geralt’s eyes cleared all the way for the first time since they’d started, but they stayed soft with lassitude and contentment. He snorted faintly. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”</p><p>“I don’t know. I may never recover from this loss, so dire as it is—”</p><p>Geralt leaned in and kissed him. Moved his hands from Jaskier’s thighs and turned them into an embrace, pulling Jaskier even closer.</p><p>“Well,” Jaskier said, when the kiss finally broke. “I suppose I might do that.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Geralt said, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I thought you might.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So this is now part of a series, because a sequel is in progress. And hopefully, it will soon be out of progress ;) Subscribe to the series for updates!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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